This president is in the bizarre situation of having to explain his explanations because of his well-established ability to slip through invisible loopholes. Remember: He still believes that he did not lie when he denied having an affair with Gennifer Flowers even though he had sex with her. And I hesitate to even repeat the theories on the president’s contorted view of sexuality, which allows him to deny Lewinsky’s charges. As of today, Clinton’s defense can best be summarized by that classic argument of trailer-park lawyering, “Eatin’ ain’t cheatin.’”
Another essential presidential task is the ability to declare war. Constitutionally, no one else in America can do so, and politically, President Clinton cannot do so. Why? Because our nation will not follow into war a man whose public policy would then be described as “killing our sons and screwing our daughters.”
Finally, the Clinton presidency is over because, as much as I love a good laugh, no person can withstand the avalanche of ridicule this pathetic putz has pulled down upon his own head. Americans have a tacit understanding with their elected officials: “Go ahead, take the perks, hire a personal stenographer to sit in your lap, send a little government gravy to your golf buddies from the old law firm, that’s fine. Just don’t embarrass me. Don’t make me feel humiliated that I voted for you.”
President Clinton has broken the deal. Every public statement he makes from now on will be somebody’s punch line. Soon the joke will get old, and President Clinton will lose every politician’s most important asset: the ability to entertain.
And we the people will give President Clinton the hook. He may still have the desk, but he won’t have the job.
The fact is, with all the Clintonistas screaming that “this isn’t Watergate,” President Clinton passed the Watergate standard long ago. Obstruction of justice? Why do you think President Clinton’s friends paid Webb Hubbell more money to stay in jail and keep his mouth shut than he could earn as a private attorney?
Perjury and obstruction of justice? This is a White House where subpoenaed documents mysteriously appear on the First Lady’s nightstand, where long-sought videotapes of presidential fund-raisers with Chinese arms dealers are suddenly “discovered” after the 1996 election.
Abuse of power? In both Travelgate and Filegate, the FBI was used to punish political enemies of the president: The White House travel office director was wrongly indicted (and later acquitted) by the Clinton Justice Department, and I trust we all remember Craig Livingstone, the “useful galoot” whom no one will admit to having hired but who somehow was able to compile the supposedly confidential FBI files of hundreds of Republicans.
The president’s problem today is not that he has violated the Nixon standard—that’s old news. No, the president’s in trouble because he finally broke the Oprah barrier, because he is engaged in a scandal that stupid people can understand.
It’s a safe bet in politics that when you become a potential guest for Jerry Springer (“My Lesbian Wife Ordered Our New Dog to Eat Subpoenaed Documents!”), your presidency is over.
Once again, I am writing in the very midst of the thrashing storm. By the time you’ve read this, it may have already blown over. If, for example, the president has the courage to do the right thing, he will formally resign from office, and he will do so in the next few days.
Then again, if Bill Clinton were a man of personal integrity and courage, my column this week would be about the Super Bowl.
President O.J.
* * *
February 1998
There’s never been anything like it.
—President Bill Clinton on the trial of O.J. Simpson, 1994
Until now.
William Jefferson Clinton has become the Orenthal James Simpson of American politics: Everyone knows he did it; we’re just watching to see if he can get away with it.
Will he? If he does, he will have successfully walked a path hewn through the American justice system by pioneers such as Johnnie Cochran and Robert Shapiro just three years ago. In fact, a review of the two cases, taken directly from news reports, shows that President Clinton and O.J. Simpson are sharing virtually the same defense strategies. Legally speaking, it looks like a case of having been separated at birth.
THE O.J./CLINTON DEFENSE STRATEGIES
Deny, Deny, Deny
I did not have sex with that woman, Ms. Lewinsky.
—President Clinton
Absolutely, 100 percent not guilty.
—O.J. Simpson
“It’s a Conspiracy”
After Judge Ito blocks all but two of L.A. detective Mark Fuhrman’s racial slurs from testimony, defense lawyer Johnnie Cochran accuses Ito of being part of a police conspiracy to frame Simpson.
First Lady Hillary Clinton claims Monica Lewinsky is part of a “vast right-wing conspiracy” to frame her husband.
Cochran calls the prosecution’s introduction of O.J.’s wife-beating into testimony a “clear and orchestrated attempt to influence public opinion.”
Referring to the activities of Ken Starr’s office, White House spokesman Joe Lockhart says, “It seems to be an orchestrated campaign of misinformation.”
Cochran threatens to call an ex-FBI agent who testified in the World Trade Center bombing case that he had been forced to doctor evidence. The agent had no connection whatsoever with the Simpson case.
White House aids tell Newsweek—without offering evidence—that the “talking points” document that corroborates Lewinsky’s taped account is fabricated.
“Hey, Nobody’s Perfect”
He, like all of us, has made mistakes. Of course, we know that only one perfect person has ever walked the earth.
—Johnnie Cochran
One aide, speaking on condition of anonymity, said Clinton particularly was buoyed by scriptural referrals offered by ministers supporting the president. The references included Romans 3:23, “For all have sinned and come short of the glory of God,” and John 8, in which Jesus said, “Let he who is without sin cast the first stone.”
“I’m the Victim of a Powerful Prosecutor”
Cochran complains that the prosecutors have more resources than the defense, though prosecution lawyers earned $45 per hour while the Dream Team members were making $650–$700 per hour.
Clinton defenders claim Ken Starr’s office has spent $30 million (or $40 million or $50 million, depending on which day you ask) as part of a partisan campaign to get the president after years of failing to prove the original Whitewater allegations.
Defense expert Frederic Rieders, who told jurors a patently lame story about blood possibly being planted on O.J.’s socks, responds to cross-examination by attacking the prosecution: “I’ve been pestered by the prosecution from hell to breakfast.”
White House aides accuse Starr’s investigators of using inappropriate and possibly illegal tactics to pressure potential witnesses.
“You Can’t Trust My Accusers”
Cochran points out several times that Detective Tom Lange lives in Simi Valley—the white suburb where LAPD officers had recently been found not guilty in connection with the Rodney King beating—implying that this raises issues about his character.
Clinton defenders frequently note that Linda Tripp was part of the Bush administration and is a friend of a right-wing book agent who once worked for Richard Nixon.
Defense attorneys maintain they will not play the race card, then denounce Detective Fuhrman as a white supremacist who planted evidence to frame Simpson.
Despite assurances from White House spokeswoman Ann Lewis that the administration would not attack Lewinsky’s character, a White House aide calls reporters to offer information about Monica’s sexual past, her weight problems and what the aide said was her nickname—“the Stalker.” She was known as a flirt who wore her skirts too short and was “a little bit weird.”
“You’ll Never Prove It”
Before being arrested, O.J. spent several days at the home of his friend Robert Kardashian, discussing his
troubles. When O.J. escaped the police and fled for Mexico in his infamous white Bronco, Kardashian then paid the fees required to become reinstated as an attorney in California, thus allowing him to invoke privilege and avoid testifying against his friend regarding their pre-arrest conversations.
President Clinton is considering invoking executive privilege to keep attorneys in the White House from testifying against him.
When police tried to get documents regarding O.J.’s wife-beating from the defendant’s office, they were blocked by the defense. When the officers returned later, O.J.’s assistant had shredded them.
The White House has refused to release copies of entry logs and phone records that could confirm that Lewinsky met with the president privately after December 25, which would mean he had committed perjury. (No report on whether or not they’ve been shredded yet.)
Forensic expert Henry Lee, who went on to dispute much of the prosecution’s blood evidence, was at Kardashian’s house with O.J. and A. C. Cowlings the night before O.J.’s attempted escape.
President Clinton met alone with Monica Lewinsky on December 28, just before she turned in her sworn deposition attempting to deny her affair with the president.
“I Really Want to Tell My Story . . .”
The majority view on the defense team is that Simpson should testify. O.J. wants to testify, too.
—Johnny Cochran
President Clinton acknowledged there were legitimate questions about his relationship with Monica Lewinsky and that “the American people have a right to get answers. I want to do that. I’d like for you have more rather than less, sooner rather than later.”
“. . . But I Won’t”
O.J. Simpson never took the stand in his own defense.
“I’m honoring the rules of the investigation” by refusing to provide details of his relationship with Lewinsky, Clinton said. A spokesperson later acknowledged that there were no rules prohibiting the president from explaining his relationship with Monica, other than the rules of common sense.
Neither O.J. Simpson’s attorneys nor the president’s representatives mentioned the Fifth Amendment right against self-incrimination.
Thinking with Your Clinton
* * *
February 1998
The voice that joyously leapt at me from the phone was very familiar. But the words took me by surprise. “Michael, this Clinton sex thing—isn’t it great?”
It was a friend of mine, a college buddy now finishing his med school residency. Years after college, we still talked frequently, but I couldn’t recall ever hearing him utter a single sentence about politics, even though I work as a political consultant. Bright, entertaining, informed, sure—but as far as I could tell, he didn’t know the difference between Richard Nixon and Richard Dawson.
President Clinton had changed all that. “Are you following this Monica story?” he went on excitedly. “It is absolutely amazing!”
But when I asked him when he had joined me in the ranks of Clinton-bashers, he stopped me cold. “Clinton-basher? No, no, Michael. I’m not bashing the president. He’s going to get away with it, and I think it’s wonderful!”
I didn’t want to sound like Bill Bennett thumping on a copy of The Book of Virtues, but I found it difficult to share his enthusiasm. I told him the silver lining around the public’s current celebration of presidential perjury had not yet caught my eye.
“Are you kidding me, Michael? This Clinton guy is a godsend! Here we are, you and I, a couple of guys in our mid- to late thirties, with middle age staring us coldly in the face. And the president of the United States has just made it okay for older guys to screw around with younger women! We are on the verge of a new sexual revolution, and with you and me as the target demographic! And I say it’s about damn time.
“Think about it this way,” he went on. “Guys our age missed the 1960s free love movement. We missed the permissive 1970s, too. When we finally hit the sexual dance floor, so did the AIDS virus. We’re the generation who had to deal with HIV before we even got around to heavy petting. I thought we were doomed. And now we’re the Clinton Generation! Is America a great country or what?”
I started to explain that the story was far from over, that there were more political peaks and valleys ahead, but he stopped me.
“Michael, when the boat’s a-rockin,’ don’t start knockin’! Why fight it? Women’s attitudes have completely changed, almost overnight. There are a bunch of feminists where I work who just last week were ready to turn a lingering glance into a lawsuit. I went to work yesterday, and they’ve decided it’s okay to be a dirty old man! Medical interns who used to be a harassment filing waiting to happen now eye me with a look of expectation.
“We’re on a teeter-totter, with President Clinton on one side and every moral conclusion of the history of Western civilization on the other, and Bill’s winning! You the man, Bill! You the man!”
I tried again to argue that the president might, in fact, pay a political price when the facts reveal—as they almost certainly will—that he did have sex with his twenty-one-year-old intern and lied about it, but my friend laughed in my face.
“You think the nation’s moral character is going to bring Bill Clinton down? Michael, you’ve got it backward! Instead of demanding he rise to our level, virtually every college-educated woman I know is ready to drop down to his! And buddy, I mean ‘drop down’ in a very literal sense.”
My doctor-in-training was on a roll. “And I ask you, Michael, who are we to judge? Hey, he’s the president; I’m a resident. Besides, instead of condemning his failings, you and I should cheer him on. We’re going to be the big winners. A few more years of President Clinton, and Woody Allen can get elected pope!
“In fact,” he continued, “that’s why I called. On behalf of every middle-aged married man—and those of us headed for middle age and probably marriage in the all-too-near future—I want to start a Draft Clinton movement and elect the president to another term. Can you help me?”
I pointed out that if he was serious, he first needed to change the name of his movement. After all, the last time someone tried to draft Bill Clinton, he fled to Europe. I also noted that the United States Constitution prohibits presidents from serving more than two terms.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he answered. “And fifty-year-old married men aren’t supposed to fondle the office help, either. Michael, you’re still thinking under the old paradigm. Don’t you understand? Aren’t you paying attention? The president of the United States met privately with a witness who had been subpoenaed to testify against him. Afterward she changes her story and lies under oath. Then his pals get her a high-paying job for which she is clearly not qualified . . . and nobody cares! It’s a whole new world!”
He had a point. I suppose President Clinton could claim that he had never actually served his first term. You know, he could say someone else had been president from 1993 to 1997, and all the videotape and news stories about him in Oval Office were Republican fabrications.
“Now you’re thinking with your Clinton!” he shouted. “That’s it. He can look right in the camera and tell the American people: ‘I never served as president before 1996—these allegations are false.’ Hell, no one even has to believe him! We all want Bill to be president—the American people couldn’t care less about the facts. And Hillary can say that anyone who disagrees is part of a vast right-wing conspiracy.”
There might even be a legal loophole, I went on. The president could claim he was never officially sworn in the first time. He could say that when they administered the oath of office in 1993, he thought it was a federal deposition and so he lied.
“Now you’ve got it. Look, I gotta go. A couple of young coeds have asked me to give them some career advice, and, being the sensitive, gregarious guy I am, I’m heading over to counsel them in a friend’s Jacuzzi. But if anyone can figure out how we can get President Clinton elected for a third term, you can.
“Just remember: If you g
ive the American people a choice between the integrity of the U.S. Constitution or a sycophantic politician who appeals to our lowest, neediest elements of human nature and will tell us whatever we want to hear—we’ll be in like Flynn! Life is good, my friend!”
And then he hung up, another idealistic American inspired to action by President Clinton.
Dead Kennedys
* * *
January 1998
I am famous. I achieved in one day what it took Robert Kennedy his whole life to accomplish.
—Sirhan Sirhan, after assassinating RFK in 1968
It is ironic that both Michael Kennedy and Sirhan Sirhan are famous for precisely the same two reasons: a lifetime of accomplishments by Robert Kennedy, and a single, shameful act of their own.
Sirhan Sirhan has no identity outside his relationship to RFK. In 1968, in the kitchen of a Los Angeles hotel, Sirhan took his place in the hall of eternal infamy. Up to that moment, he was as unknown to the average American as your run-of-the-mill busboy, sewer worker or vice president of the United States.
The same could be said of the recently self-bludgeoned Michael Kennedy, one of the hundreds of nameless, faceless Kennedys who thrive in the cold, amoral environs of New England. One year ago, Michael Kennedy’s death on an Aspen ski slope would have been minor news—a one-paragraph brief tucked away in the holiday newspapers next to other unread stories such as “Locations for Recycling Your Christmas Tree” and “Celebrating Ramadan in the American South.”
Just one year later, NBC News literally interrupted this program to tell us that Michael had George-of-the-Jungled himself to that great Kennedy compound in the sky. The networks dusted off their Di-Cams to broadcast his funeral live, with hushed commentary about Caroline Kennedy’s clothes. Weekend talk shows gave nonstop analysis, going so far as to find women in Massachusetts who had not been propositioned by a Kennedy, drunk or sober. Even in our local papers, Michael Kennedy’s funeral made the same number of front-page appearances as Mother Teresa’s.
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